An Unexpected Request
by Grooviest Mutation
Summary: Erik comes to Charles with a difficult, strange question. XM:FC


Just a little something I wrote quickly. I do not own X-Men. Please review, I'm new to this, I need to know if I can do write right.

**An Unexpected Request**

Erik had become withdrawn as the week progressed. At last, on Thursday evening, all the quiet meditation in his room birthed a result. He got up from his cross-legged contortion on the firm mattress of the bed and soundlessly left his room, locking it behind him out of habit and crossed to the study. On the way to the liquor cabinet he passed by the chess set, already anticipating his and Charles' next game. Erik unlocked the cabinet with a wave of his hand, pouring a generous tumbler of good quality scotch and finally admitted to himself that he was addicted to it. _Or perhaps you have an addiction to Charles, _piped up a little voice in his head. As he drank it all at once (for courage) he let himself be briefly amused at Charles' insistence to keep alcohol locked up away from the younger mutants, who (with the exception of Raven, possibly – her age was indiscernible) were all underage.

Erik shook out his shoulders. No point in putting it off any longer. It was a simple matter, after all. He heard the youngsters laughing downstairs and hoped that Charles was not with them; he doubted his strength would extend to asking to talk to Charles privately in front of the children, right now.

His heavy steps brought him to Charles' bedroom door. Taking a deep breath, Erik knocked.

"Come in" emanated faintly from the other side. Erik turned the handle manually, too stressed to manage even that small flex of his power, but thankful that Charles was within all the same.

"Ah Erik, my friend, you haven't been yourself lately; I'm glad you've emerged from your room at last!" Charles looked up from the papers spread over his desk, the pen in his hand hovering, possibly mid-sentence, and his face brightened into a warm smile. He looked down again, finished whatever he was writing quickly and set the pen down precariously on a pile.

Erik waited, emotions he was not used to building up inside of him unbearably, until Charles' eyes found his again. Charles' hair had fallen into his face – it often did that, Erik mused – and Erik's hands itched to push it away. He locked his hands behind his back and stood his ground, a safe distance from Charles, near the door.

"Charles, I have a request, more of a question, really," Erik began, his voice sounding strange even to his own ears and Charles' face flashed confusion, apprehension and curiosity (_when had I learned to read the telepath as well as he could read me? _Wondered Erik).

"Could you make me like women? Straighten me out, I mean."

Charles' face coloured with utter confusion at Erik's hastily spilled words.

"Why would you want me to do that?" Charles looked so (_adorably, noshutup) _flustered and confused, still.

"Because I think I'm in love with a straight man but I should be in love with his sister," Erik ground out, turning red. Understanding dawned in Charles' eyes and he smiled again softly.

"You aren't...disgusted?" Erik uttered. He thought he'd covered every possible reaction and thought of a response during his long pondering, but found himself mistaken.

"No, why would I be? Erik, we're _mutants_. Society is prejudiced against people of colour and sexuality and gender other than white, straight and cisgendered. There's no reason for us, outsiders also, to behave the same way. Ostracised communities should learn from mainstream society's mistakes, should they not?" Charles admonished gently, "You have nothing to fear or hide. You're among friends here."

Erik hung his head and relaxed his taut muscles, wishing to sink through the floor in mortification. So intent he was on his embarrassment, staring at his shoelaces as if they could reveal to him how to unlock a secondary mutation of invisibility, that he didn't notice Charles ease out of his chair and come toward him until the slighter man put a soft, warm palm to Erik's face. Erik looked up guiltily into amused but affectionate eyes.

"I think I'm in love with a man I thought was straight too." Charles whispered and slowly, afraid to frighten Erik away, bent forward and stretched upward to touch his lips tenderly to Erik's in the ghost of a kiss.

I'm a little iffy about this one, so please remember to review.


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